


we'll do this again and again and again and

by rarmaster



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AND BY PEOPLE I MEAN AQUA, BECAUSE THAT'S HOW THIS TIMELOOP MAGIC WORKS, Gen, TECHNICALLY PEOPLE DIE BUT NO ONE STAYS DEAD, Time Loop, VARIOUS TIMES
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: however many times it takesA collection of oneshots about timeloop Aqua.





	1. [Continue?]

**Author's Note:**

> for reference, [this](http://sorceressrinoa.tumblr.com/post/161832793549/whats-the-back-in-time-glitch) is why this fic even exists..... though also at least half of the ideas for different loops I want to write came from discussing things with aera, she's wonderful and I love her

Xehanort’s Keyblade cut across her back, and Aqua cried out in sharp pain. She could feel the blade’s teeth slice through skin, and muscles, and she wasn’t going to get back up after this, she wasn’t—

Everything shook, shifted, and settled into an image she’d grown uncomfortably familiar with.

Light filtered through the stained glass window at the end of the hall, casting rainbows on the floor and over the floating orbs of light-tainted-by-darkness that were weaving around. Terra stood behind her, calculating before he moved. (Terra was misty-eyed, hair gone white, staring at the sky.) Ven was off to the side, twirling his Keyblade in his hand; he shouldn’t get involved, it wasn’t his exam, but he was just protecting himself. (His eyes were closed, he was cold to the touch, he wouldn’t move, wouldn’t respond.)

Aqua staggered a step, because she would always stagger a step when she got slammed back here after everything had gone wrong. But she couldn’t show it. No one else had any idea, no one else was experiencing the same thing she was. So she had to pretend everything was just fine.

Trembling, a little, from her nerves, Aqua raised her Keyblade with a familiar flourish and pulled at the energy for Thundaga Shot. The effort just made her really dizzy, and she remembered belatedly that she _couldn’t do that,_ couldn’t do any of the spells and techniques she was familiar with. Her magic reservoirs were great, but right now they were nothing compared to what she’d hone them to be in just a few weeks.

Feeling heat in her cheeks and tears in her eyes, Aqua moved to cast Firaga, instead. That came, at least, though it wasn’t as strong as she was used to, and took a lot more energy than she would have liked.

She hated this, she really did.

Hated that she had to retrain herself to use weaker attacks, so she wouldn’t wear herself out, when she knew she could do _so much more._

Hated that she couldn’t seem to land herself in a spot, in a time any sooner than this, no matter how hard she wished. She’d take just ten minutes before the exam, if she could! More time would be great, because maybe she could set some things straight but—

All she really wanted was some time to rest, and recuperate between loops. All she wanted was a few moments to herself, a few moments to try and get the images out of her head and feelings out from under her skin. 

She’d take what had been given to her, though, because any chance to try again was good enough.

And she had to keep retrying. She _had_ to, because maybe one of these times she’d get everything right. Maybe one of these times, Terra would still be himself at the end of it all. Maybe one of these times, Ven wouldn’t—

“Aqua!”

Ven’s voice, and Aqua’s heart leapt at the sound of it. (Except it shouldn’t, because _of course_ he was okay, this was the beginning.) She saw the orb that was coming up behind her now, and she spun out of its way, stumbling a little as she went because even if she remembered the move, her body did not.

“Geeze, Aqua!” Terra laughed, as he brought his Keyblade crashing down on the orb, obliterating it. (In the same motion, his Keyblade hit the ground, and pieces of the earth rose up from it, flying towards her— _no no no no_.) “I’ve never seen you this off-form before. What are you? Nervous?”

“A- a little,” Aqua lied. Exam nerves was the best excuse she’d found yet.

“You’ll do fine.”

He smiled at her, eyes warm and gentle. Aqua set her jaw. _That_ smile, that was what was real. That was what would make it out of this mess, this time. _Terra’s_ smile, Terra’s warmth. And Ven would make it out, too, and they’d all laugh together like this, after it was all over.

This time, she’d get it right.


	2. In which Aqua can't fight Terra, not again

 

Somehow, this time was worse than all the last.

Somehow, Xehanort’s words cut a few inches deeper into her skin, his smile drawn across Terra’s lips hit a little harder than it usually did. It seemed this time, he remembered a lot more at this point then he normally did. Maybe that was it.

(Had something she’d said to Terra, earlier…? Had it made him not want to fight back? But which thing, had she said? Which time?)

Aqua had come prepared, to take on Xehanort. She had come more and more prepared each time she faced him. But even as Magic Hour turned into Ghost Drive, Xehanort was still too quick for her. Quicker than Terra had ever been. Stronger than Terra had ever been.

She got her Barrier up a few seconds too late, and took a volley of dark blasts to the arms and chest. The darkness burned her skin, clung to it, and even muttered Curagas under her Barrier weren’t enough to soothe the pain. They never were.

Aqua watched Xehanort carefully, through the blue tint of her Barrier. There! An opening.

She let her Barrier fall and ran forward, casting Thundaga as she ran. Xehanort dodged that, brought up his blade to meet hers. There was no way she could break his defenses. So Aqua leapt back, and—

Xehanort’s Keyblade caught her across the stomach, this time, the blow heavily laden with darkness. Aqua pooled her energy together for Curaga as she hit the ground, but that wasn’t going to be enough. She’d died enough times to know that.

“Commendable effort, really,” Xehanort laughed. He stood above her, Keyblade held at his side. His voice sounded a little too much like Terra’s for comfort. “But you didn’t stand a chance.”

The last thing Aqua saw was the gleam of his golden eyes.

 

And then the world shifted, swirled, resettled in an image much brighter, an image so familiar she was getting sick of seeing it. Rainbows cast over the floor. Orbs of light tainted by a darkness she’d grown all too familiar with.

The orbs were easy, but she knew what came after them. A duel with Terra, just to show their strengths. Aqua thought she might puke.

It was just supposed to be a duel, but she could not get Xehanort’s foul smirk out of her mind’s eye. She thought she kept seeing silver hair, on Terra, every time she looked. It was just supposed to be a duel, but she knew how Terra’s body moved when it intended to kill. She knew what it was like to fight with him, and struggle for her life, and—

And she was standing before him before she realized it, body taking her through the motions at every cue she was supposed to follow.

Aqua held her Keyblade in both hands, one on the hilt, the other supporting the teeth of the blade. It was just a duel, she told herself. Just a duel.

Terra held his Keyblade at his side, his body a little more tense than it usually was. He was nervous about the exam. That showed on his face, too, but then there was a playfulness in the raise of his eyebrows, the gleam of his eyes. He wanted to know if he should move first, or her.

Aqua took a deep breath and readied her own Keyblade. She could go first. But would her first blow turn this into something more than a duel? And if she let Terra move first, how would her body respond, on reflex?

She thought about a Barrier, around her. The energy inside her tugged for something devastating—Ice Barrage, maybe—and she counted it lucky that if she tried she wouldn’t get anything near like it. The feel of darkness still lingered on her skin, like a phantom.

She had to fight Terra.

But by now, she’d done it more times than she would have liked to, more times than she could count.

Terra raised his blade.

Aqua dropped hers.

She let it fall to the ground, and took a step back, hands moving for a Barrier just in case.

“I can’t.”

The words tore themselves from her lips. To her embarrassment, though she’d meant them to be steady, they came out more like a terrified squeak. (She just didn’t want to think about Terra’s blade at her throat, didn’t want to think about how his darkness would flare up, sometime soon, just like it had every time before.)

To Terra’s credit, he moved slow enough that he was able to stop his swing long before it came anywhere near Aqua. And as he let his hands fall back to his sides, his brow scrunched in confusion.

“Aqua…?” he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She dared not lower her hands, just in case. Just in case.

“I just- I can’t—”

No more words came.

It wasn’t like she could explain. She’d tried that before. She’d told them what she’d seen, what she’d just come out of more than once, and had either gotten nowhere or made things worse with the telling. But she wasn’t a good liar, either. So Aqua stood there, hands held in front of her, eyes squeezed shut so she wouldn’t have to look at anything, and she said nothing.

“Aqua, you’ve been nervous this whole exam,” Terra said. He sounded worried. She could hear his footsteps on the ground, feel him coming closer. “Is something—”

“Don’t!” Aqua cried.

She opened her eyes to see him reaching out to her, but her Barrier was already up. She dispelled it, pieces shattering to fly at Terra, and even though guilt beat hard in her she leapt back, further away from him.

“Stay away!”

“Aqua!?”

Hurt peaked in Terra’s voice. After a second, he banished his Keyblade.

Aqua swallowed. Her throat was raw. Emotion heaved in her chest, and she took a heavy breath, trying not to cry. It was unfair, to do this to Terra, when he didn’t even understand why.

She just couldn’t stop the fear that was closed tight around her lungs.

“Come on, Aqua,” Terra said. He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture, taking cautious steps towards her. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I mean, not any more than I would have in a regular spar.” He laughed nervously, emptily. Aqua didn’t move away, this time, but she didn’t lower her hands, either. “Are you sure you’re okay? Ever since the exam started…”

“I…” But Aqua still wasn’t sure what to say.

Ven was coming over, now, and so was Eraqus. Xehanort wasn’t, at least, and Aqua thanked every star Ven had ever called lucky for that. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Xehanort got near her. She didn’t want to think about it.

Terra deserved some explanation, as did the rest of them, even if it was untrue.

Aqua lowered her hands a few inches, bringing them together, rubbing her left hand over her right wrist as she spoke.

“I slept terribly, last night,” Aqua said, stumbling a little over the words. “Kept having… awful nightmares.” Oh, how she wished the things she’d seen were just nightmares. “I’m sure it’s just… just stress!” She forced a smile, and nervous laugh.

Terra eyed her, and the motion she was making with her hands—she always did it when nervous, and he knew that. But he looked a little less hurt, so there was that, at least.

Ven arrived, now, peering at Aqua with a worried expression to match Terra’s. He looked like he wanted to come closer, but lingered a little behind Terra. Aqua wanted to say something to reassure him, only, she didn’t have the words. And Eraqus had reached them, anyway.

Aqua turned to him, and took a deep breath. She snapped to attention, and gave him a partial bow.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said, head low. “I guess I’m just… more stressed than I thought I’d be. Could we possibly… try this again, in a few hours?” She was going out on a limb, with all of this, but hey: if she messed up too badly, there was always next time.

Eraqus studied her, but thankfully he only seemed worried, not upset.

“It is… unprecedented…” he answered, slowly. “But I do not wish to push you, either, Aqua. You can always take the exam another time.” He turned to Terra. “Terra? Do you wish to continue with the exam, or—?”

“If Aqua’s going to be up to trying again soon, then I’ll wait for her,” Terra said, firmly, before Eraqus could finish. “We said we’d do it together.”

He looked at Aqua for confirmation, and a little surprised, Aqua nodded. A fondness budded in her chest. At least she could enjoy this, for right now.

Eraqus hesitated a moment, but then he too nodded. “I would not wish to send Xehanort away only to call him back in a few weeks, so if you think you’ll be ready by tomorrow, Aqua?”

Aqua blinked. Her mind focused on _send Xehanort away,_ because, maybe that was it—but no. No, Xehanort would find a way to lure Terra out of here one way or another, and the Unversed would still appear whether they did the exam or not.

“Um. Yes,” Aqua said. She tried to look confident. “Tomorrow. I’m sorry.” She ducked her head down in Eraqus’s direction again, immensely grateful.

An entire day? That was more time than she’d ever asked for.

Honestly, she wanted to spend it just… enjoying things for as long as they remained normal. But she knew better. The time would be better spent talking to Terra; about Xehanort, about his darkness, about other things. Maybe she could talk to Eraqus, too, and influence the results of the exam…

Maybe she could stop this mess before it even started.

Maybe this time would be the one.

(It wasn’t.)


	3. Master, Tell Me The Truth

This time around, Aqua stayed home. It’d been a little difficult to do so, because it wasn’t like ducking out of an important mission from Eraqus could _ever_ be easy, but she’d faked a stomach bug well enough.

Was it wrong of her? Maybe. But after twenty some loops with no end, Aqua wanted a break. She had no idea how to beat Xehanort, at the end of all this. And if the loop started over every time she died, what did it matter, anyway? She could just try again next time.

Besides: perhaps things would even go better, without her there to cause friction with Terra. Perhaps Ven would get bored and come home, if she didn’t make him want to stay away by saying he had to.

In fact—

There was Ven’s heart, a beacon suddenly lighting against her senses. Accompanying it was the distant hum of a Keyblade glider, and when Aqua moved to the window to look, sure enough: There was Ven descending into the courtyard, letting his armor and glider vanish as soon as the drop was safe enough to land. Eraqus was already running down the steps to meet him, likely having felt Ven’s heart like a signal fire the same way Aqua did.

Aqua started to pull away from the window and go down there to greet Ven herself, except… She hesitated, as she watched Ven and Eraqus, below. Ven’s shoulders were hunched, and she could feel unrest burning in his heart. The conversation drifted up then, much too distant to make out the words, but Ven sounded agitated and Eraqus… colder, than he’d ever sounded before.

Aqua unlatched her window and pushed it open so that the glass wasn’t obscuring the sound. But whatever Eraqus was saying was much too quiet. She felt his heart waver, then sharpen with determination.

She felt him summon his Keyblade before it had finished appearing in his hands.

“No!” Aqua cried, heart in her throat. She leapt out the window.

It was a long fall, and she had not been practicing any of the spells and techniques she would have learned had she not been sitting around at home—that was the most frustrating thing, having her power reset along with everything else—but she managed to fumble together a spell enough to slow her fall, and then—

She felt power gathering around Eraqus, felt a spell begin to take some kind of terrifying shape at the end of his Keyblade. She still had the length of the stairs and the courtyard to cover. She wasn’t going to make it in time.

Unthinkingly, Aqua pulled at her own power, grasping for Ghost Drive. She’d activated it the first time in a fit of desperation, a fight against Vanitas, wanting to teleport like he did. Maybe she was not ready to unlock it now, but she pulled at it anyway. What did it matter, if it was dangerous to activate a Command Style on empty reserves? What did it matter, so long as she kept Ven safe?

Ghost Drive’s power filled her veins, broken and jarring. Her vision blurred, but it _worked._ It worked exactly as it was supposed to. She crossed twice the distance in half the time. Eraqus’s spell released, and—

—crashed into her abdomen as she shoved Ven out of the way.

There had not been time to summon her armor. There had not been enough magic in her bones to summon even a simple barrier after what that broken Ghost Drive took out of her. There was nothing but her flesh as a shield between Ven and destruction.

Eraqus’s light ate at her, burning and terrible. Phantom chains of light branded her, devoured her, tore her apart. A startled, anguished cry was rent from her throat as she hit the ground.

She knew very well what death felt like.

She knew very well that she was much too far gone to save, even as her Master’s magic reached out to her in attempt at healing, an attempt to anchor her back into the realm of the living.

She’d had Xehanort’s darkness tear her to shreds just as thoroughly, and she knew this was the end—at least for now.

“Next time,” she tried to say, lips feebly trying to shape the words as she reached up to Ven. “N- Next time, it- it won’t—”

The colors around her swirled.

 

And swirled.

 

And coalesced into rainbow light cast over the yellow ground in the grand hall. Pinpricks of light and swathes of darkness pressed against her senses, flitting around the room—the orbs Eraqus had summoned, tainted by Xehanort. Even though she’d done this twenty-some-odd times before, the transition was no less jarring, and she staggered as she always did.

But this time, recovery was not easy.

Stomach sick with anger and confusion, Aqua fell to her knees, dry-heaving. She felt the room around her slow, felt four hearts stop to consider her with worry or bewilderment, and she did not have it in her to care, this time. The weight of Eraqus’s eyes sat heavy on her. An Eraqus who didn’t know what pain he’d caused her. An Eraqus who’d do it again, who’d done it almost the same every single time before.

( _The Master—he tried to hurt Ven!_ Terra had claimed, and Aqua hadn’t _not_ believed him, but it hadn’t really seemed real, not until she’d been there herself.)

Phantom pain still burned on her skin, and the sting of betrayal burned in her heart. Who cared if they stared at her? Eraqus—her Master, the man who was almost more of a father to her than her real father—had just _murdered_ her. And that spell, so terrible it had cut her to shreds in seconds? He’d aimed it at Ven.

Why would he aim it at Ven?

Was it because of Ven’s ties to the chi-blade, that blade of terrible power, the monster she’d fought—and died to—several times before? Had Eraqus known, all along? Aqua remembered how he always coddled Ven…

But was keeping Ven on this world coddling, or was it imprisonment, because Eraqus feared—hated—what he might become?

( _Terra would never!_ she’d shouted, but now she knew. Now she understood how he could.)

Terra’s and Ven’s presences then registered to her through the wild spinning of her thoughts. They were both on the ground beside her, Terra’s hand on her shoulder, Ven hovering in front of her face like a worried, flitting bird.

“Aqua, are you alright?” Terra asked, his voice concerned, warm in ways that she’d usually cherish but there was anger and sadness boiling too fiercely in her gut this time around.

“What happened?” Ven pressed, speaking rapidly. “Something happened, right—Terra you saw it too!” He directed his attention up in Terra’s direction.

“I only saw Aqua fall,” Terra replied. Now his voice was a little tight. Likely due to Aqua’s lack of response, but Aqua wasn’t sure _how_ to respond. What lies would get her through this? Or…

“Aqua—your _arms_!” Ven gasped, suddenly.

Aqua blinked and looked down at them. She had to crane her neck a bit to look for the bits of skin that were actually visible—what Ven was referring to was more on her shoulders, anyway. Her stomach churned at the sight of them.

The scars of whatever had killed her tended to carry over, between loops. And there, burned into her skin; A pattern of chain-link, a brand from Eraqus’s spell.

She raised her gaze to look at him—and that made her sick, too. She wanted answers. Surely whatever opinions he had about Ven, about the chi-blade, weren’t too different now from what they’d be in a few weeks.

Perhaps this would be a loop where she told them everything.

“Aqua, what is the matter?” came Eraqus’s voice, a moment later. He started moving towards her, banishing the orbs he’d conjured for the test as he did so. At least Xehanort stayed put.

Aqua opened her mouth to tell Eraqus _exactly_ what was on her mind, but then he reached out to her, magic gathering at his fingertips. Aqua scrambled back on reflex, swiping a hand out to deflect his. He looked startled, and then only more concerned. Belatedly it occurred to her he was probably just trying to check and see if she was actually hurt, but nonetheless:

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, because the thought of the hands that had just killed her touching her was more than she could stomach. He’d _killed_ her. The weight of it crashed into her all over again. No, he hadn’t aimed for her, but it was by Eraqus’s hand that she had died.

She wasn’t sure she could ever look at him the same.

A startled, frantic laugh escaped her throat as she thought that, tried to come to terms with it. This was not something she should have to cope with.

“Aqua?” Eraqus said again, kneeling down in front of her. There was— _love_ , in his voice, in the knit of his brow. Genuine concern and fondness that she could describe no other way, but now she knew to look at it and wonder. Was it an act?

Or had he always loved her, but never Ven?

She wasn’t sure which hurt more.

“How long?” Aqua demanded, voice cracking, desperate laughter still on her lips. “How long have you _hated him_?”

Eraqus recoiled a little bit, eyes now darkening with confusion. “Who…?”

It was too much to say his name, so Aqua just nodded towards Ven, who’d scurried off to her right. (Terra still hovered behind her, on her left.)

Eraqus’s eyes darkened further. He seemed to fumble with his words before he finally laughed a little and answered. “Aqua, I don’t hate—”

“You would have killed him, if I hadn’t been there,” Aqua countered, furious. She trembled under the weight of all the things she knew that they did not. “Maybe you _did_ kill him, after I died!”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Eraqus demanded.

“I have done this. A _thousand_ times—” It had not been a thousand, but some loops it felt more like it. “—This exam, and everything that comes after! Terra fails. Ven runs away from home. The Unversed start spreading throughout the worlds. And _Xehanort_ —” She stopped, hissing, seething out his name a second time. “ _Xehanort_ —!” But she couldn’t quite finish, didn’t even know where to _begin_ putting words to all the horrors he’d committed.

“Come now,” Eraqus began. Would this be a loop where he told her she was speaking nonsense? Or would this be a loop where he believed her?

She decided to make it the latter.

With fumbling, shaking fingers, she unbuckled the straps of her shirt. It made her skin crawl, a little, because the _last_ thing she wanted to do was undress in front of Xehanort, but. She needed Eraqus to see these scars. She needed him to recognize them, needed to see his reaction.

So she yanked the front of her shirt down as far as she could without undoing the rest of it. Eraqus seemed surprised for only a second but then his eyes saw the scars. The worst of it was closer to her stomach, on her left side—it still kind of burned—but the chain-link pattern spiderwebbed up her body well enough for Eraqus to get a good look.

“These scars were left by _your spell,_ ” Aqua said. She studied Eraqus intently. “You recognize them, don’t you?”

He said nothing, but the sickness that washed over his face told her that he did.

Sickness washed over Aqua, hot and thick, and she heaved on it a moment, before the heaves turned into a broken kind of laughter. He’d _killed_ her, and he knew it, and she— _needed_ him to answer for it.

“Aqua, I…” Eraqus tried.

Aqua shook her head and cut him off, knowing the word that would be on his lips next. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” she hissed. “A man who was sorry would never do this to begin with.” Tears burned hot in her eyes as she looked up at him, looked up at her mentor; someone she’d loved so deeply and trusted so thoroughly just _hours_ before this. It was a struggle to reconcile in her mind just how far he’d fallen in her eyes. “What fear, what _darkness,_ has twisted your heart so that you could look Ven in the eyes and raise your blade to—”

“ _Aqua_!” Eraqus interrupted, tone sharp. “Please, not with Ventus right here.”

“NO!!” Aqua shouted. “He deserves to know! He deserves answers!” She pounded at her chest. “ _I deserve answers!!_ ” She could barely see through her tears, barely think through the anger and sickness that boiled in her. “Is there love for _any_ of us in your heart!?”

Sadness made Eraqus’s eyes crinkle, and he reached out as if to cup Aqua’s face in his hands. She shoved him away again, because she _couldn’t._ She couldn’t.

“Of _course_ I love you,” Eraqus said, carefully. “I love all of you equally.”

He sounded like he meant it, but Aqua thought about all the things she had seen and she wondered. Oh, did she wonder.

“Then _why_?” she demanded.

Eraqus closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

“Do you know the power Ventus possesses?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Aqua answered. “But that doesn’t _excuse_ —”

Eraqus sighed again. Opened his eyes. “You must know that it is our duty as Keyblade wielders to protect the worlds,” he said. “And as much as it… would pain me to do so, I think I could understand why I might have—”

Aqua made a disgusted noise.

“The safety of the worlds must come before everything else!” Eraqus persisted, resolute.

Aqua rolled her eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t believe this, what she was hearing. “Even above the ones we love?” she pressed.

“That is what we’re called to do, as Keyblade Masters. It does not make it right, but… I can understand, how if I had not seen a better answer—”

Had Aqua been in a better mood, she might have noticed the hesitance in his voice, the regret with which he spoke. But even those things did not excuse his actions. Nothing he could say would ever excuse his actions. All Aqua heard was the admittance that he would kill Ven, should he see the need, that he would kill her and Terra as well. It made her blood curdle.

Here was the answer she’d wanted. Truth, like a knife in her heart. Truth, cutting the last dangling thread of admiration Eraqus hung by in her eyes. The sickness in Aqua’s chest hardened, turned cold.

“You say that the safety of the worlds comes before that of your loved ones,” she said, her rage like ice in her veins. “And yet you let Xehanort—” She cut off as her eyes flickered over to him.

Xehanort was gone.

Aqua’s heart plummeted into her stomach.

“He- he’s gone,” she whispered, mouth dry.

Eraqus followed Aqua’s line of sight, then noted the same thing she did with a frown. He looked at her, eyes narrowed. “You said you’ve done this all before. Is his disappearance something we need to be worried about?”

“Yes?” Aqua said on reflex, but without much certainty. Xehanort’s disappearance was always a signal for events beginning—would they be getting that call from Yen Sid soon?—but, then again. Something else occurred to Aqua. Xehanort was gone. And he had not said a word to Terra. “Well, maybe,” she amended. “I’m not so sure.”

Somehow, this was the best a loop had ever gone. With Eraqus aware and understanding of her looping nature, and no Xehanort around to interfere, then perhaps for once they could plan something—

“Ven!”

Terra’s shout interrupted Aqua’s thoughts. She looked up to see Ven running off, down the hall and out of sight. Terra hesitated, looking between Aqua and Eraqus. Then he, too, ran off after Ven.

Aqua sighed. Perhaps she _should_ have waited until she had Eraqus alone. Ven probably… hadn’t needed to hear that. She pulled her shirt back up and redid the fasten behind her neck. Oh well. What’s done was done. Ven would want some answers from her, now, undoubtedly.

Eraqus moved to get to his feet. Aqua glared at him and got to her own.

“I should at least explain myself to him…” Eraqus began, but Aqua shook her head, short and sharp.

“No,” she said. “You lost the right to that. And I know it wasn’t _you,_ but I know it could be you. Because it _has_ been you. Every single loop before this one, that moment was a constant. The only difference last time was that I was there, instead of Terra.”

She did not clarify to him that Terra lived, and he died. He didn’t deserve that knowledge.

And if the weight of another one of his pupil’s deaths weighed heavy on his heart?

Well, that he did deserve.

 

 

Aqua stepped into Ven’s room. He was curled up in the corner of bed, and Terra was curled up with him. They both looked hurt, and confused. Pain stung in Aqua’s heart. She supposed there were a lot of revelations between her and Eraqus that they were not ready to hear.

“Hey…” she began, not sure where else to. She lingered in the doorway. Ven was crying too much to really look at her, and when Terra did, there was some kind of unease in his eyes, like he almost didn’t recognize her. Aqua sighed. “Sorry,” she said, because they deserved that. “I guess I should have waited to speak to Eraqus. But…”

She doesn’t have an answer. She wasn’t sure she would have done that differently. Maybe if she had to do it again, she would at least get Eraqus alone before discussing the timeloop thing with him. The scars he left on her skin were the most damning evidence she’d ever have, and Terra and Ven didn’t need to see those a second time.

“Wh- why…” Ven croaked. Terra tried to soothe him. Ven’s voice was raw, like he’d been sobbing hard. “Why would the Master want to—”

Aqua swallowed.

She moved to sit on the end of the bed. Neither of them looked like they wanted her anywhere else, so she figured it was okay.

“There’s this thing called… a chi-blade,” Aqua explained, slowly.

Ven shivered, like he already knew what that was, even though by all rights he shouldn’t.

“And you have… the power to make it,” Aqua continued.

“What is it?” Terra asked.

“It’s… a sword of terrible power,” Aqua said, not sure how much she’d learned from Vanitas she should tell. Ven squeezed his eyes shut, breathing like he didn’t want to be here. Aqua pressed on: “It’s existence could destroy the worlds.”

Ven swallowed once, twice, to get his voice working. “And so the- the Master would… k- k- kill me, rather than…” He broke off. Heaved a few gasps of air. His eyes remained squeezed shut, and he was still shaking like a storm. “Maybe that’s… Maybe that’s better…” he whispered, voice so quiet it was almost snatched from Aqua.

“No!” Aqua said, launching herself forward on the bed a little bit. She put her hands under her to brace herself. She’d heard Ven say this before, but why the hell would he be saying it _now_? The knowledge of the blade’s existence couldn’t be enough on its own to make Ven so shaky, and he hadn’t yet faced any of the things he had otherwise, hadn’t even met Vanitas yet. “It’s _not_ better, Ven! None of us should have to die!”

Ven didn’t say anything. He just kept breathing, hard. Like trying to bottle a storm within his chest.

“Have any of us… before?” Terra asked, looking slowly up at Aqua. “You said you’ve done this… a lot. What is _this_?”

“This journey,” Aqua said, not sure how else to explain. “What happens next.” And then she smiled, and shook her head, happy to answer his first question. “Neither of you have died before, though.”

Terra nodded, looking a relieved. “So the Master- he never?”

Aqua shook her head again. “You were always there to stop him.”

“And he’s never…” Terra couldn’t seem to say the word. “Me?” Aqua shook her head again, but that just made Terra more agitated, and he leaned himself towards her. “But- but _you_!”

“He wouldn’t have, if I’d been a little faster,” she said, laughing a little at her own failure. (It was all one could do, when stuck in a repeating hell like this.) “I didn’t have the time to summon my armor, or anything.” She’d had none of her training otherwise, either, her body and mind left un-honed, that loop.

Terra looked relieved again, and he relaxed. He didn’t cuddle so closely to Ven now, just sat at the other end of the bed, opposite Aqua, his legs folded under him. Aqua shifted herself, so that her legs were hanging off the bed again, sitting sideways. She placed one hand behind her to hold her weight.

Terra seemed to realize something, after a moment. He looked at Aqua a little more carefully.

“You’ve…” He swallowed. “You’ve… died a lot, haven’t you?”

Aqua smiled from beneath the weight on her shoulders.

“Every time I do, I end up back here, though,” she said. “A second chance.”

“That’s awful,” Ven interjected.

Aqua turned her attention to him, confused. “I’m… very thankful for the chance to keep doing this, until I get it right.”

Ven shook his head. “Not that. The fact you keep… dying. You shouldn’t have to die either.”

Aqua shrugged.

She didn’t know what to say, because she wondered if the lengths she’d go for the two of them are too much for them to know, at this point. But she’d die a thousand times, if at the end all three of them were safe. She’d die a thousand times, even if only Terra and Ven were, at the end.

“Things will happen differently this time,” she promised, instead of an explanation. “They’ve already happened very differently.”

“What was that you said… about Master Xehanort?” Terra asked.

Aqua’s skin crawled, her lips curling with distaste. The icy rage in her belly had calmed, a little, but at the sound of his name its frozen fingers wrapped around her heart again. She took a second to breathe, so that this would not burst out from her. Terra and Ven did not need to feel the weight of her anger, would not understand it.

“He’s not who he says he is. I know Eraqus trusts him, but he’s a _fool_ to.” Her voice shook. Aqua paused a second more to breathe. “He’s… _Xehanort’s_ the one responsible for destroying our lives.”

“What does he do?” Terra pressed, curiosity flashing in his eyes.

Aqua would expect that kind of relentless curiosity from Ven, but Ven was curled up with his arms over his face, like he wanted to vanish.

Aqua hesitated, not sure what to say. She didn’t think she wanted to tell Terra everything.

But she had to tell a little, if she wanted this to go different.

“He… goes after you specifically, Terra,” Aqua said. “Hard to say what for.” That was a lie, but hopefully it didn’t sound like one. “But I think he’s interested in your darkness?”

Shame washed over Terra’s face. Aqua wished she had the words to reassure him about his darkness, but she didn’t. Maybe the Master was wrong about it. He was wrong about a lot of other things. But—

“You shouldn’t trust Xehanort,” Aqua said, before anything else. That was what mattered most. “You shouldn’t trust him, or anything he says to you. He just wants to use you. He just wants to use all of us! He wants the chi-blade, too…” She looked over at Ven, but it was really hard to gauge his reaction when she couldn’t see his face at all.

Terra took a deep breath.

He looked… uneasy. But why shouldn’t he?

“What do we do to stop him?” Terra asked.

“I’m working on that,” Aqua said. “But I have a good feeling about this one. Things are going to be… really different.”

 

 

And things _were_ different, this time.

Eraqus did not attack Ven, Ven was not forbidden from leaving.

But things were not different enough.

Eraqus still died, by Xehanort’s hand, even if Terra played no part in it.

Ven may have been allowed to go free, may have understood more about the chi-blade, but Vanitas hounded him relentlessly and could not be swayed. There was no way for Ven to escape his fate.

Terra may have been more cautious, with Xehanort, but in the end it didn’t matter. Xehanort did not need, never had needed, Terra’s trust to step into Terra’s heart.

Things were different.

But Aqua still left Ven behind, his heart fractured, and faced Xehanort in the main plaza of Radiant Garden. And there she died, like every time before.

And so she had to do it again.


End file.
